I have walked from Tripolis to Kakouri. One third of the distance might include the outskirts of Tripolis, until you reach the provincial road to Levidi that crosses your path perpendicularly. After this the road narrows. There is a small church on cement stilts opposite on the right. The road narrows and has a shiny…
Conversations on Blessings
My father would always say we should count our blessings. We always had to go to church on St. John’s day, 6 January, when the priest blesses everyone in church with Holy Water from the Epiphany sprinkled with a sprig of Sweet Basil. The heady mix of a summer day in South Africa, incense, candle…
Conversations on Directions
My father always drew a distinction between a house and a home. The former was a shell that was never filled with love or tradition; the latter was filled with family, love, tradition, happiness and sadness. As Zorba the Greek might have paraphrased: “A home held the whole catastrophe”. Before Greece started its cadastral records…
Conversations about Travel
Old Man Simbonis told me this when I went to Greece this year. Somehow I remember him telling me this whenever we spoke: “Travel broadens the mind.” He has had a stroke now and is bed bound. His mischievous eyes always alert sparkle when he gets visitors. Tiny drops of tears from in the corners…
Conversations about Rabbits
The smell of stifado alone warmed me up that winter evening. The onions that were stewing released an earthy tone reminiscent of the harvest smell in the plains. This was sweetened by the cinnamon and wine. The slow bubbling of the pot on top of the wood burning stove made the kitchen so inviting, warm…
basilbloginc.com 